Priorities
by ToothFairy
Summary: TonyMichelle, post Day 2, one-shot. There's a fight, a stubborn silence and... a reconciliation?


_I've had this idea since mid-summer, and about two weeks ago I finally cracked open my laptop and forced myself to write it down… not really expecting anything to come of it. Yet here it is, several drafts later… :)_

Michelle never knew that a bed could feel so empty.

It was a queen-sized bed made of dark oak; she had picked it out years ago when she moved into her first apartment. Not very many men had ever slept in it, and she had never really missed any of them when they stopped. She had always appreciated the space – rolling over without being hindered by another human body, finding the most comfortable spot in de middle between her two pillows… She hated having her sleeping rhythm disturbed.

Well, now it was disturbed.

When Tony first started sleeping over she could have sworn he transformed into an octopus whenever she closed her eyes. His arms and legs seemed to be everywhere, making it seem like he had eight instead of four. His own moving around in sleep combined with the abnormal amount of heat radiating from his body had all but driven her crazy. He slept with the same intensity as he did everything else, and there was absolutely no cajoling him into scooting over without waking him up. The only time she did get some sleep was when he pulled her close and turned her body parallel to the curves of his own. Then he would stop moving so much, settle into her, and it was as if they would become one.

Gradually, she had grown accustomed to his many limbs, body heat and sleeping patterns. She was able to dump her flannel pants and socks, and settle for just underwear and bare legs. She enjoyed his hands brushing across her skin in de middle of the night, unconsciously finding their way under her T-shirt and settling on her stomach. She loved it when his feet found hers, when their knees bumped. The softness of his skin when she was the one that reached out to him.

And now he wasn't there for the first night since she could remember, and she missed him and his body heat and his limbs more than she would have ever thought possible.

She told herself the fight had been meaningless, he would get over it and they would start fresh in the morning. You didn't end a six-month long relationship over one spat, right?

Oh, God, what did she know? She was hardly a relationship expert.

Besides, had it all really been that meaningless? After all, wasn't it going to continue being a problem as long as they kept seeing each other?

His career was important to him, and she understood and respected this better than anybody. But somehow she had a feeling it had less to do with his professional opportunities than with his ego.

He had come back from his meeting at Division with a look on his face and his shoulders squared in a way that could only mean one thing: he was pissed off. It hadn't even occurred to her that this might have something to do with coming clean about their relationship with Ryan Chappelle and Brad Hammond the week before.

She had wanted to get it over with, while he had insisted they hold off a while longer.

"We've been together for six months," she had argued calmly, "We're going home together every day, we're going out to dinner and to the movies. Somebody's going to see us, Tony. We need to tell them before this happens."

He'd had a stubborn set to his jaw. "Michelle, if we tell them there's a very real possibility they're gonna transfer one of us out… and it'll most likely be you."

A hand came to her forehead, then just as easily dropped back against her side. "Well honey, what do you want us to do? Sneak around like this until we get caught? It has to come from us – if they find out before we have a chance to explain they're gonna think we're just…"

"Fucking," he finished for her, and she nodded.

It was this argument that had convinced him in the end, though he remained reluctant. They had arranged a meeting with just Chappelle and Hammond, requested Jack's presence, and spilled the beans. Neither bureaucrat had been ecstatic at the news, both had barked out a lot of personal questions that they had answered truthfully, despite the daggers Tony was shooting them that clearly stated 'stay the hell out of our business'.

She had the feeling this furious look of warning in Tony's eye was the other thing that had stopped them from mentioning Nina.

They were warned to keep their relationship out of the office, not to allow personal to mix with professional under any circumstances. They had easily agreed to this, especially considering it was exactly what they had been doing for the past six months, and Michelle – exceptionally glad the word 'transfer' had not come up – had thought it was settled then.

She was completely oblivious to what was coming when made her way up the Tony's office ten minutes after his return from Division.

"Hey," she greeted him quietly, offering him a smile as she closed the door to his office. "How was it?"

He shrugged and grunted, "Well, what did you expect?"

He wasn't a big fan of either Hammond or Chappelle, or anyone else really at Division, so this comment didn't cause any alarm bells to go off in her head. On the contrary – it made her smile.

"That bad, huh?"

At this he shot her a sharp look, which caused her smile to waver. He didn't make a habit of taking his professional frustrations out on her, even if she was his second in command, and she didn't understand the inkling she was getting that he was angry with her for some reason.

She brushed it off and tried to get him to talk to her. "So what was said about the El Attrach case?"

The threat against a Californian university that CTU had managed to contain two weeks before, orchestrated by terrorist Karim El Attrach, had been one of the main topics of discussion planned for the meeting.

He snorted. "Barely anything since all Hammond cared about was keeping me out of the discussion."

She looked at him uneasily, not seeing where this was heading. "What are you talking about?"

He finally threw down his pen and looked up at her, anger clearly recognizable in his dark eyes. "He wanted to make me look like an idiot, Michelle. He wouldn't look at me. Avoided asking me anything. Cut me off whenever I tried to add to the conversation. Asked for everyone's opinion except mine…" He shook his head in disbelief. "I've never been so humiliated in my life. That guy Carlson was practically smirking in his seat."

Wayne Carlson was Deputy Director at Division, and the man Chappelle had always wanted as CTU Director if George Mason ever left his post, as was publicly known. He had never forgiven Tony for getting the job instead.

Michelle couldn't believe what she was hearing, and was struggling to form a reply when Tony suddenly said angrily, "I told you we shouldn't have told them about us, Michelle. Now look what's happening!"

His outburst immediately threw her on the defensive. "Do you really think it's because-?"

"Of course it is," he snapped, "Why else would he suddenly turn on me like that?"

She had to agree with him, as much as she hated it. Hammond wasn't known for his friendliness, but this was blatant, even for him. "Well…" She grasped for straws. "What did Chappelle say?"

"Nothing," he admitted, "but he didn't exactly defend me either."

There was a long pause, and eventually Tony picked up is pen and continued writing without so much as a glance in her direction.

"Tony…" she said finally, taking a step towards his desk, "I'm not sure what you want me to say. I'm sorry it happened but that doesn't change the fact that we couldn't keep this secret forever. They had to find out sometime."

"That's easy for you to say," he shot back, "I don't see anyone busting your ass."

"And that's my fault?"

"Did I say it was?" he snapped.

When silence once again threatened to fall upon them, Michelle forced herself to speak. She took a deep breath and willed herself not to get emotional.

"You think I'd feel any differently if I was the one who was paying for it?" she asked in disbelief. "Do you really think I'd ever let anyone convince me that being with you is a bad idea?"

He didn't answer; he just stared at her with a hard look in his eyes. She didn't allow herself to look away, praying he couldn't tell how much effort just looking back at him was costing her.

Finally she just shook her head and said quietly, "Don't lay this on me, Tony. I'm not the one having seconds thoughts here… You are."

She couldn't stay. She turned on her heel and left the office.

Her shift ended an hour later and she was still too mad to seek him out and try to make amends before she went home. They'd come in separate cars since he'd had to be at Division first thing in the morning for that meeting, so she just stepped out to the parking lot without saying anything to him.

She reasoned that if he wanted to come by later to talk she would be willing to listen, but she wasn't going to beg him to value their relationship above Hammond's opinion of him. The ball was entirely in his court.

That was hours ago. Now it was past two in the morning and she was nowhere near asleep. He hadn't shown up, hadn't called. She prayed it was because he just needed some space and not because he was testing what it would be like to live without her again.

God, what had he done to her? She had never really been upset when any previous relationship had ended. Quite the opposite – often it was as if a great weight was lifted off her shoulders. Not having to take someone else's life into account when living your own used to be a luxury, a relief – as selfish as it made her seem even to herself. And now the mere thought of spending the rest of her life without him was enough to bring tears of panic to her eyes.

Rationally she knew that he could not seriously be considering breaking up with her. He'd told her he loved her too many times for her to really believe that. He'd just been understandably upset after a whole day of being humiliated and ignored. He'd cool off once the anger dissipated.

But the uneasiness remained, and so she held on to the memory of lying in bed with him last night – his arms surrounding her and kisses falling into her curls. Yesterday she didn't have a doubt in the world that he wanted to be with her at any cost.

She was startled when her cell phone went off, indicating she had a text message. She automatically reached for it, wondering who the hell would be texting her at two-thirty in the morning. Deep down she knew who it was most likely to be, but she refused to let herself acknowledge it to spare herself from her own bitter disappointment if it wasn't.

It was from Tony, and it contained just one sentence:

_Are you asleep?_

She hesitated, considering her options. She wanted to ignore it, punish him for putting her through a night from hell, but she just wanted him here with her more. What she really wanted to do was call him, but she quickly put that out of her head. She refused to give in that easily.

She settled for texting back, very simply:

_No…_

Within seconds her phone was ringing and she hesitated again before answering with a quiet, "Hey".

"Hey…" he echoed, and she could have cried at the warm huskiness of his tone.

There was an awkward silence while she noiselessly pleaded with him to say something. Finally he broke the ice.

"Listen uh… About today… I'm sorry. I was mad at Hammond… not at you."

Her free hand closed around the comforter and she swallowed. "I know."

She felt rather than heard him hesitate before he queried softly, "Forgive me?"

She could feel herself smiling a little at this. "Yeah."

"Good." He was smiling now too, she could tell. "Listen, get some sleep, okay? You have to be at the office by eight."

_So do you_, she thought, but still could not stop herself from asking, "Could you come over?"

"Baby…" She heard him exhale. "It's late. I want you to get some rest."

She wanted to tell him she couldn't sleep without him, that she was still shaken by the fight and wanted the reassurance of his body next to hers. But all she got out was a soft "Please?"

He sighed. "Alright." She could hear him getting out of bed. "Don't get up, I'll let myself in. Try to sleep, okay?"

"Okay."

After ten minutes she knew she wasn't going to get any shut-eye before he got here. She got up and threw on her bathrobe, heading towards the kitchen for some water. She stood against the counter, nursing a bottle from the fridge until she heard his key in the lock a while later.

She waited for him to make his way through the apartment, stopping dead in his tracks when he spotted her.

"I thought I told you to stay in bed," he remarked, though there was no accusation in his tone.

She shrugged. "I was thirsty."

Neither said anything, and Michelle held out the bottle to him just to avoid another silence. He came closer and took a sip.

She had trouble looking at him, wished she had the courage to just nestle herself in his arms and let him take her back to bed. But something held her back, something that came from the pit in her stomach. His apology over the phone had taken away some of the anxiety but not nearly all of it, and instead of reaching out for him like she really wanted to, she just fiddled with a loose thread on her tablecloth and hoped he would take charge.

He was eyeing her carefully, and finally set the bottle down and took a step closer to her.

"Michelle…" He reached for her hand and held it against his chest, running his other hand over her bare arm to her elbow. "I… I wish I could tell you what got into me. I don't know what made me say those things, because the truth is…" He squeezed her hand and took a deep breath. "The truth is that I wouldn't give up what I have with you for anyone or anything. And I'm so sorry if I made you doubt that today."

She looked at him now, seeing the naked honestly in his eyes and yet not being able to stop herself from asking, "Then why would you say-?"

"'Cause I'm an ass, Michelle."

The way he said it was so unexpected and so heartfelt that she had to chuckle, and he did too. He tugged her closer, reaching out to push a few messy curls out of her face while his other hand kept hers clutched against his chest.

"I'm an ass, and I say the stupidest things when I'm pissed off. I swear I didn't mean it. You're… you're the best thing in my life and nothing could ever stand in the way of that."

She heard the emotion in his voice, the tenderness he obviously felt for her written all over his face. After a moment she pulled her hand loose and draped both arms around him, falling into his embrace as he pulled her closer. His hand traveled up her leg, up her body to her hair, brushing it away from her neck so he could press his lips against her skin. He kissed her shoulder and her cheek and finally just held her.

After a while he pulled back and she sighed.

"C'mon," he said, wrapping his hand around hers and giving it a gentle tug, "Let's go to bed."

She crawled between the sheets and watched him strip, enjoying the sight of him peeling off all his layers of clothing until all he had on were his boxers. Thinking that if she couldn't be with this man for whatever reason, they might as well just let her die.

He caught her looking and smiled as he slipped in beside her, leaning in closely. He pressed his lips against hers, softly, gently teasing her with the tip of his tongue. Her left hand crawled into his hair while her right slid to the small of his back, drawing him closer, wanting all of him.

He kissed her deeply now, then gently broke the contact. At her questioning look he just smiled and wrapped both arms around her, maneuvering them into their usual sleeping position. Her Tony – all arms and legs and warmth.

"Go to sleep, Michelle," he growled into her ear, "I'm not going to tell you again…"

And she smiled because she knew he wouldn't have to.


End file.
